Dark Nights
by UtSuKuShIi MoOn
Summary: AU – One cold, winter night, Fuji finds a young child abandoned on the streets. Entranced by the golden pair of eyes, he takes the child in on a whim. However, he is a man running from his past and the child may become something that reminds him of it. As the saying goes, the past will always catch up sooner or later. Vampire fic. Yaoi. Thrill pair.
1. Prologue

**Summary**: AU – One cold, winter night, Fuji finds a young child abandoned on the streets. Entranced by the golden pair of eyes, he takes the child in on a whim. However, he is a man running from his past and the child may become something that reminds him of it. As the saying goes, the past will always catch up sooner or later. Vampire fic. Yaoi. Thrill pair.

**Author's Note**: There will be OC characters. Characters may be out of character. This fanfiction is not related to the anime/manga. This is yaoi, which means male x male. If you don't like, don't read. There will be character deaths. This is a vampire fanfiction, so hopefully you, as readers, will like it. The prologue will be told from Fuji's POV in third person. After that, everything else will be told from Ryoma's POV.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

**Warning**: Rated M for adult content, violence, and language.

* * *

**Prologue**

_The rain was pouring, beating against his skin as he lay on the muddy ground starring up at the dark sky. His breathing had slowed and his skin had gone very cold. Still, he held onto dear life. Even without needing to get up to inspect his injuries, he already knew he had bled out too much. Then again, what did he expect. It was a war and people were bound to be killed. Stifling a chuckle, he scolded himself for being cocky that he would be able to survive. Suddenly, a fit of coughs grabbed hold of him. Struggling for breath as his own blood choked him, he allowed, for the first time in his life, for tears to stream down his face. Although it would have been an honor to die while protecting the Shogunate, he didn't want to die. Such thoughts, however, were forbidden to be spoken out loud. He should be proud to die as an honorable man out on the battle field where many of his other comrades lay in their own blood. He closed his eyes and waited for death to pull him to the other side. Maybe he would be able to see his friends who had also died in the war. _

"_Oh, he is still alive," said a far away voice._

_Eyes fluttering open again, he stared up at a man who hovered above him, blocking off the pelting raindrops. There was a smirk on the man's handsome face. "Who...a..re...?" he tried to ask, but could barely get the words pass his trembling lips. _

"_Ahh...another samurai dying for honor huh? Tell me...do you truly wish to die in such a pathetic way? The way how this war is going, your side is bound to lose so your death will be nothing, but in vain," the man said amusingly. _

"_...de..ath..." he muttered, but somewhere inside him, he was begging to live._

"_Really? Okay, then I guess I shall leave you here to die pathetically." _

_Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed the mans arm. He didn't know why, but the looming fear inside him clung to him, pleading him to live. He knew he shouldn't because even if he did survive, he was bound to commit seppuku from the guilt of pleading to live. Slowly, he released his grasp and turned away. He would not stoop to the level of a groveling insect to live. He should be proud to be dying honorably. _

"_Hah...I've seen to taken a liking to you. You wish to live, don't you? Then just say it. Beg for it and I'll make sure you live," the man said._

"_...N...ever..." he argued. _

_The man sighed and then shrugged, "Alright then." _

_As the man moved away, the drops of rain began to splatter on his face again. The farther the sound of footsteps went, the more he felt the urge to live. It scratched at the back of his mind until it finally screamed. He took a stifling breath and led out a cry, "Please...I...I do...don't...wa...nt...to die. Let me...live!"_

_There was a low chuckle next to his ear and the next thing he felt was a painful sensation on his neck. He gritted his teeth as his eyes clenched tightly. He could feel his blood draining from his body. A cry died in his throat, coming out as a gurgle as he fought the man back. He had wanted to live, not be killed. He struggle until his strength left him. Arms falling limply to his side, he stared blankly at the man. In a swift moment, he saw the man cut himself with his fingernail. His blood dribbled down his arm. _

"_Drink it," the man commanded as he thrust his arm forward._

_Without a moment of hesitation, he open his mouth and took the arm into his mouth. The taste of the blood overwhelmed his taste buds. It was rich with the taste of iron, but it was also somewhat sweet. He sucked harder, licking every last bit of blood he could take until he felt full. The arm was pulled away from his lips and suddenly, a drowsiness overtook his body. His eyes drooping, he could sense the man bending over him. _

"_From now on, I am your master. My name is Atobe Keigo. You will call me Master Atobe. Soon, you will become a creature of the night and yearn for the taste of the red liquid that runs in every human. No longer will you live to see the sunlight or bathe in its warmth...that is your punishment for defying death," the man said quietly in a cold, but amusing tone, "Now...you will feel its effect."_

_As if on cue, a surge of pain coursed through his body. He screamed in agony, body twisting as the pain touched every nerve. His insides felt like it was ripping apart into millions of pieces, as if his skin was shredding. He let out the most horrifying scream as a hard tug gripped his heart like a hand was clenching around it. He took one deep breath and held it in. Silence surrounded him. It took a moment as he stared up at the gray clouds for him to notice the slow beat of his dying heartbeat. Then, it took one last rhythmic beat and disappeared. Exhaling slowly, he soon realized the injuries from earlier no longer hurt and he wasn't bleeding as much anymore. He sat up slowly and stared at his pale hands. _

"_Welcome," Atobe said, "to the world of blood lust." _

He jolted awake from a shaking. Looking up groggily, he saw a female waiter leaning over him with a worried expression. Apologizing to her, he stood and slipped on his coat. He paid his bills and left the crowding family restaurant. The night was cold with a chill that could freeze anyone's bones. Bundled in a thick coat and two scarves, the light brown haired man slowly sauntered down the sidewalk with his hands stuffed deeply inside his coat pockets. Glittering, colorful lights lit the streets that was littered with couples. Amongst them, he felt out of place...quite literally. The eve before Christmas and he was alone as usual. Then again, it his own fault for becoming such a secluded man. Sighing, he buried his face into the scarves wrapped around his neck. Turning on a corner, he came to an abrupt stop. Head turned and eyes scrutinizing, he gazed into a dark alley between two large store buildings. Sitting in front of a green dumpster, was a small boy around the age of four. His black hair fell over his dirty face, but they ceased to cover a pair of beautiful golden eyes—eyes that reminded him of someone else from long ago. His breath was taken away at the sight of the young boy sitting alone with a thin coat around him and shivering in the night. By some odd pulling, he found himself walking toward the small child. He stopped in front of the child and stared down at him. For the longest time, he just stood and stared until the child cowered. There was a tugging somewhere in his cold heart, something he didn't think he could still feel. Unconsciously, he lifted his hand and held it out to the child without speaking a word. He believed his gesture was enough for the small boy to understand. It took a few minutes before the child finally took his hand. A small smile graced his features as he felt the tiny hand in his. It was warm and so fragile. "I'll take you home," he whispered and tugged on the little boy's hand for him to follow.

Stepping into his home, he stripped himself of his coat and scarves. After getting comfortable, he turned on the heater and then went straight to the bathroom to run a hot bath for the boy. When he came back into the living, he found the child still waiting by the door. Chuckling, he walked toward him and ushered the child to come closer. At first the boy was reluctant, but he eventually took off his shoes and toddled over to him. Taking the boy by his hand again, he led him to the bathroom where he told the child to undress. Moments later, the boy was naked and bathing. Once the dirt on the boy's face came off, he noticed the boy was very cute. His large eyes revealed innocent golden eyes, staring at him curiously. Smiling, he ran his fingers through the child's hair. "Your eyes remind me too much of him," he muttered to himself.

After bathing the boy and dressing him in a large white shirt, he took the child to bed. Inside his room, it was dark. Black curtains hung from the windows, draping to the floor. His bed was covered in black satin sheets and fluffy pillows. It was a dreary room with almost nothing except a dresser and a bed. He lifted the child into bed and then followed suit. Laying down, he patted the spot next to him for the child to sleep. It a moment of hesitance before the child crawled over and lay beside him. "Do you have a name?" he asked the child. He waited for an answer, but the child just stared at him. "A quiet one, eh? Well, I don't want to call you 'kid,' or 'hey,' so should I name you?" he asked. Again, the child stared at him in silence. Intense gold eyes stared into his until they became droopy. Suppressing a laughter, the man closed his eyes and waited till he heard the even breathing of the child next to him. When he was sure the boy was asleep, he opened his eyes again. His gaze dropped to the tiny neck of the boy. Hunger growled at him, but he fought back the urge to bite into soft skin and taste the metallic blood on his tongue. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. He slowly sat up and got out of bed. He needed to feed before he went crazy.

With amazing stealth, the man left his home and went in search for his food. He lurked the streets until he found a young woman by herself. He stalked his prey until he was sure no one would see her disappear. From the shadows of the night, he lunged forward and snatched her. Her scream died as he pushed her against the wall of an alley and stared into her eyes, commanding her to be silent. As soon as her eyes dilated, he leaned forward and licked her neck. Saliva dripped from his fangs as his mouth open. Biting into her supple flesh, the warm, red liquid gushed into his mouth. He moaned from the pleasure of it. He sucked and licked, feeding away until his hunger was sated. When she slumped against him, he slowly put her on ground and leaned her against the wall. He checked her pulse and sighed in relief to find that he hadn't killed her. Licking away at the blood dripping from his lips, he noticed she was carrying a bag. Curiously, he reached for it and opened it. Inside the white plastic bag was a box. He opened the box and found a round, Christmas cake. Smiling, he thought of the child. Closing it, he stood and took the bag with him, heading back home to where the boy would be sleeping in wait for him.

* * *

He awoke to the sound of a cry and a shake. Stirring from his sleep, he opened his eyes groggily. A presence from beside him had him on alert. Sitting up quickly, he jumped out of bed, preparing for a fight, but the sight of the whimpering boy dissipated the adrenaline rush of his flight or fight response. Eyes softening, he got back into bed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Sorry, did I scare you?" he asked. He was about to get up again when a tug on his shirt prevented him from doing so. His glanced down and saw a small hand holding onto the hem of his flannel shirt. His eyes traced the hand, up the arm, across the tiny shoulder until he stared at the tiny child. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the child's eyes were rubbed raw from crying. Another twinge in his heart surprised him. Never had he felt such emotions in long time. He didn't think his cold, dead heart could still feel anything. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't wake up and you got scared didn't you? Thought I was dead...well, technically I am. I'm different from humans, you see. I sleep during the day and I wake up at night. Ah, which reminds me, today is Christmas. I didn't get you anything..."

Suddenly, a growl interrupted him. He looked down at the boy and saw him shivering in embarrassment. Chuckling, the man ruffled the child's hair. "You're hungry. Sorry, I should remember you humans can't survive like I do," he said, "Come on, I have a cake for you." Getting out of bed, he led the boy into the kitchen. Plopping him on a chair, he took out the cake from the night before and cut it. He placed one large piece onto a plate and set it in front of the boy. He sat down next to him and watched as the child shyly began to eat the cake. "I guess I should say I do have a gift for you...what do you think, hm? From now on, you and I can be a family," he suggested. He noticed the child falter. He watched on silently as the boy slowly turned his blank gaze to him. Another silence between them, but he was beginning to get use to it.

"Ryoma," the boy answer, so quietly he almost couldn't catch it if he was still human.

"Hm? Ryoma?" he repeated with a tilt of his head.

The child tilted his head also, imitating him and then pointing to himself, "Ryoma. You?"

Dumfounded, he blinked. Slowly, he realized the boy was telling him his name and asking for his. Chuckling, the man replied, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ryoma. I'm Fuji. Fuji Syusuke."

The child stared at him blankly and then resumed eating while swinging his dangling feet back forth. Giggling, Fuji rested his chin on the palm on his hand and continued to watch the child. Something inside his head told him to stop and get away— to take the child back to the street and never look back— but the warming in his heart won over the logic and he found himself enjoying the presence of the small child. He wouldn't abandoned him...ever.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: There will be OC characters. Characters may be out of character. This fanfiction is not related to the anime/manga. This is yaoi, which means male x male.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

**Warning**: Rated M for adult content, violence, and language.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Ryoma Echizen stood in front of the door that led into his guardian's bedroom. His eyes darted to his digital watch on his wrist. It read with bright red numbers, 5:59 pm. He knew that once it was six o' clock, the man behind the door would wake up and get ready for the day. It was his usual routine like it has been for the past ten years. He kept his gaze on the watch. The number flicked and read 6:00 pm. On cue, he heard the movement of sheets behind the door and then a low curse as he heard the man stumble out of bed. He waited a few more minutes. 6:09 pm blinked at him from his watch when the bedroom door finally opened, revealing a disheveled older man in his mid twenties. "Good evening," he greeted the older man in a bland tone.

"Ah, Ryoma, you're back already. No tennis practice today?" the man asked.

"We ended it early. Are you heading to work, Fuji?" he asked.

"Still calling me Fuji? We've been living together for ten years...I wish you would call me Syuusuke," he said with a childlike pout.

"...hnn...I'm going to do my homework."

He turned and walked down the hall. He stopped in front his bedroom door and opened it, but he didn't go inside. For a brief second, he looked to the side and notice Fuji shuffling into the kitchen. There was a yearning to have the man hold him, but he brushed it away with a frown. Entering his room, he padded over to his bed and flopped down. He sighed and rolled over onto his stomach. He crawled over to the edge of the bed and leaned over it until his hands could reach under his bed. He searched around for a bit until he felt his fingertips touch cloth. He tugged on it and then pulled out the flannel pajama shirt that was a little too large for him. In truth, it actually belonged to Fuji. Sitting back on his bed, he stared at it for a moment before he brought it to his nose. He took a deep breath, sniffing the shirt which smelled of Fuji. Closing his eyes, he lay on the bed and pictured Fuji hovering over him. He imagined the older man leaning into him, brushing his cold fingers across his hot skin while whispering words of love. He longed for the man to kiss him passionately. Desire burned through him as he moaned softly at the image of Fuji kissing him and then licking him. His hands traveled down his chest, pass his abdomen and slipped under the bands of his short and underwear. Trembling with lust, he gripped his hardening cock and slowly pumped it from tip to base. He bit back a loud moan, tossing his head backward against his pillows. He pumped faster, biting back the little mewls of pleasure all the while picturing Fuji thrusting into him hard and fast. For a moment, he thought of the possibility of Fuji walking in on him, seeing him in the act of such vulgarity. It only got him harder at the thought. At least then the older man would know of his feelings and he would no longer have to hide them. Suddenly, he felt the pull of climax. His toes curled as he ejaculated into the palm of his hand. His breathing slowed as he tossed the shirt aside and reached for tissues to wipe himself down. Sitting up, he took a second to relax from his ecstasy. Then the guilt came. It was quick and swift like a sword beheading a man performing a seppuku. Ryoma scowled, pulling his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around them with his chin propped between his knees. He knew he shouldn't have romantic feelings for Fuji. The older man was his caretaker, the one who took him in and raised him. But four years ago, he found he didn't love the man like a family member. He loved him more than that. He wanted to be with him intimately, to have a physical relationship, but it was a dream that would be lost. Fuji wasn't human. He knew that and he was even told that the night after he was taken it, although he didn't quite understand until he was nine years old. Still, he loved the older man, wishing to become his lover. Fuji was also a man. How could a man ever love another man? Sighing, he flopped back onto the bed and rolled onto his side. He closed his eyes and fell into a light slumber.

"Ryoma?" called out a muffled voice from behind the door.

Waking up from his sleep, he groaned and sat up. Rubbing one of his eyes, he glanced over to the clock on top of the end table next to his bed. It was already seven which meant Fuji was heading to work. The door opened with a quiet squeak. Fuji's head popped inside from behind the door.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" he asked gently.

Ryoma shook his head, "Going to work?"

"Uh huh. I made dinner. It's on the table. Why don't you eat first and then take a bath."

"M'kay."

Crawling out of bed, he quietly followed after Fuji into the kitchen. He sat down in a chair and picked up his chopsticks. Still groggy from sleep, he slowly ate his food which consisted of a bowl of rice, miso soup, miso glazed cod, and salad with a ginger dressing. He chewed slowly on the fish as Fuji shuffled around in the living. He was partially aware of the older man. Eyes drooping, he was about to fall asleep at the table, but Fuji shook him awake.

"Don't fall asleep here," he said as he buttoned his sleek, black suit jacket, "Finish dinner and then take a bath before you sleep. Don't forget to do your homework too."

"Hnn..." Ryoma muttered a reply as he rubbed his eyes again to stay awake.

Fuji chuckled and sat down on the chair next to him. He glanced over to the older man and stared at him. His eyes were open, revealing a pair of beautiful blue eyes. He didn't ever understand how Fuji had blue eyes when he seemed...well, Japanese. He didn't ask though. He never asked for fear that if he pried, Fuji would leave him. Slowly, he looked away from the gentle eyes.

"It's been ten years already huh?" Fuji asked softly.

"Un," Ryoma replied with a grunt.

"It still feels like yesterday when you were an adorable four year old."

"Hnnn..."

"I guess over the years you've become more talkative...though not as much as I thought or rather, wanted you to."

"..."

Ryoma sighed and tilted his head so he was looking at Fuji again. He was smiling like usual, but there seem to be an air of difference. He couldn't quite pin point it, but it was definitely there. A moment of worry washed over him as he stared at the older man. He watned to pull him into a hug, but he knew if he did, he would let go of all restraint and probably confess his feelings to him. He couldn't let that happen. "Be careful on your way to work," he mumbled. That earned a big smile from Fuji and a kiss to his cheek. Scowling, Ryoma moved away and rubbed his cheek where Fuji had kissed him. He hadn't been kissed on the cheek since he was six. "Stop it. I'm not a kid anymore," he growled.

"But to me, you are still a child," Fuji said thoughtfully.

"Whatever."

Hearing Fuji chuckle, he glared at the older man. However, Fuji brushed off his glare with a smile as he resumed getting ready for work. By the time it was seven thirty, Ryoma had finished eating and washed the dishes. He shuffled over to him and waited as Fuji finished putting on his shoes and got up. As soon as he was done and opening the door, Ryoma told him again to be careful and waved him off. After the front door close, he returned to his room where he grabbed a towel and went to take a bath.

That night, he lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He disliked the idea of Fuji working as a host in a host club, but he knew the job fit perfectly into his schedule. Not only that, but it was also how he got his food. Ryoma shuddered at the thought of having his flesh bit into. His hand rubbed the crook of his neck. An image of Fuji biting him sent a rush of excitement through him. It should be scary, but to him it looked to be much more of an intimate gesture. If Fuji fed on him, his blood would be running through him. They would be joined as one. He shivered and exhaled shakily. If only he could get Fuji to feed on him, but Fuji would never do it because he cared too much for him.

It was probably three in the morning when he woke up to the sound of something breaking. At first he thought they were being robbed, but then he heard the familiar voice of Fuji. Frowning, he quietly got out of bed. Fuji didn't get drunk easily. No, he couldn't get drunk at all. It was an effect from being...whatever he was, so hearing the crash made him worry. He opened the door and silently made his way to the living room, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw Fuji pressing up against a woman. Frozen on the spot, he watched on quietly as Fuji pulled the straps of her dress and bra down. Large breasts seem to bounce out as Fuji quickly removed the bra. From where he was standing, Ryoma could see Fuji fondling her breasts while his other hand ran up and down her thigh, pushing her dress up until her lacy under garment was visible. He tugged on her underwear until it slid down, pass her thigh and down to her knees. There was a zipping noise and then a loud moan from Fuji as he ground his hips into her. The woman had wrapped her legs around Fuji's hips as he fucked her against the wall. Amongst the sound of grunting and moaning, Ryoma could hear the slick noise of flesh joining and slapping against one another. And then he saw it. The white flash of sharp fangs as Fuji opened his mouth between the crook of her neck. Before he could see the scene play out, Ryoma turned away and hurried back to his room. He wanted to shut his door with a loud bang, to exclaim that he was awake and he had saw what they were doing, but he thought better of it. Fuji was merely feeding. He needed his meal and if he did interrupt them, then Fuji wouldn't feed and then he would starve until the next night.

Shakily, he quietly closed the door and leaned against it. He slid to the floor, bringing his hands to his face and covering it. It was not as though he was angry Fuji had brought a woman into the house. After all, it was his home and his life, but he did feel jealous. He envied the woman. He wanted to _be_ her. He wanted to feel Fuji inside him, kissing him, and above all, to feed on him. He wanted to be the only one Fuji needed. But he knew, that could never happen.

When morning came, he slowly roused himself from the bed. Last night was still playing in his head, causing him nightmares. He found it very hard to sleep, especially since he could hear the woman's throaty moan in his head and Fuji's lustful grunts. Shaking his head, he forced himself to get ready for morning tennis practice and school. At least tennis would distract him.

The living room was clean. There wasn't a sight of anything broken or out of place. It was almost as if what happened the night before never happened at all. But he knew better. Fuji had probably cleaned it up after sending the woman home. Ryoma walked into the kitchen and made himself some toast, bu his eyes kept darting to Fuji's bedroom door. He wondered if the man ever took the woman into his room and slept with her in his bed before making her leave. Before he knew it, was standing in front of the door with his hands on the doorknob. Eyes widening, he pulled his hand back and mentally scolded himself. He returned into the kitchen and ate his toast, but sitting alone only made him wonder more. Finally, he succumbed to his curiosity and walked back to Fuji's door. He turned the knob. To his surprise, the door opened easily. Stepping inside, he stared into the bleak room. It hadn't changed since the day he was taken in by Fuji and slept in his room. It was still as empty as ever with only a dresser and a bed. His gaze fell on the lump on top of the bed. He walked closer to the bed, maneuvering to the side where he could see Fuji's face. Seeing as him as he was now, Ryoma noticed Fuji's still body. The way it looked, he really did seem dead. It brought back the memory from ten years ago when he woke up on Christmas day and found Fuji's lifeless body. He wasn't breathing. The whole day, he sat by his body, staring with emotionless eyes until he eventually gave in to the despair. He cried, rubbing away the tears, hoping that if he cried loud enough, the other man would wake up. It wasn't until night had fallen when he finally gathered the courage to shake him and only then did Fuji wake up, but he was startled and seemed ready to attack him. At first, he was afraid, but when he saw Fuji's expression soften, he felt better. Of course, that was ten years ago and now it was different. He knew Fuji was still alive...well, not exactly alive, but he was exactly dead either. He lived in between life and death.

"Sei...ji," Fuji muttered painfully.

Ryoma glanced to his face and frowned when he detected a hint of distress. Fuji started to struggle in his sleep, muttering in incoherently. Worried for the older man, Ryoma reached out to wake up, wondering if Fuji would even wake up since it was morning, but he tried anyway. The moment his hands touched Fuji's cold skin, eyes fluttered open. The once blue eyes were colored in blood red and they were staring straight into his. They weren't gentle like usual, but filled more with anger, hate, and mostly...as if to kill him. Ryoma took a step back, but Fuji's hand lunged forward and grabbed him by the neck. The grip tightened around him, choking him. He held onto the arm, trying to get Fuji to come to his sense. "Fu...ji! St...op!" he choked out. Suddenly, the grip loosened and a gasp followed.

"Shit! Ryoma!" Fuji exclaimed as he pulled the young boy into his arms, "Are you okay? I didn't mean to...Ryoma? I'm sorry."

Struggling for breath, Ryoma nodded his head. He wrapped his arms around Fuji's neck and looked up at him. "I'm fine."

"You sure? Fuck, I didn't mean to do that..."

"Nightmare?"

"...something like that...are you sure you're okay? I'm so sorry. Let me see."

Tilting his head to the side, he let Fuji examine his neck. Cold fingers ran across his skin, sending shivers down his spine. He shuddered and pulled back. "I'm okay. It wasn't your fault...I shouldn't have tried to wake you like that," he muttered.

"No...it's not okay. I should have known better...you might bruise later," said Fuji worriedly.

"It's okay."

"...okay..."

"Fuji?"

"Hm?"

"Who's Seiji?"

There was a look of sheer horror on Fuji's face before it quickly pass. He covered it with a smile, but Ryoma wouldn't be fooled. He knew he saw the look of horror.

"He's...just someone I use to know," Fuji said.

"You said his name and then began to thrash around. Did he do something to you?" Ryoma asked.

"God no! If anything, it was me who did something to him! I...I was a fool back then."

"You're not a fool."

Fuji chuckled, "If only...what time is it?"

"Eight thirty in the morning," Ryoma replied even though he knew Fuji was avoiding the subject.

"You should hurry and get to school."

"...I'm surprise you can be awake during the day."

"Don't be silly. Of course I can be awake...I'll just be exhausted and a little lethargic.

Sighing, Ryoma decided to let Fuji have his way. He straightened his back and turned to leave the room. On his way out, he heard Fuji tell him to be careful. He offered a grunt in reply. Closing the door behind him, he let out another sigh. His body trembled in fear. The inhuman strength Fuji had displayed when strangling him scared him, but he wasn't going to let that run him off. No matter what, he still loved Fuji...even if he would be killed by his hands.

* * *

**A/N:** So...this is my first time writing a vampire fanfic. I know I still have to update my other fanfic for PoT: _Far Away_...and I will, but then I had this amazing inspiration to write a vampire story...so yeah, that's how this story came to be. Anyways, this is the first chapter. It's short, I know, but I hope you guys enjoyed it anyways. Look forward to more chapters because this is only the beginning.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: There will be OC characters. Characters may be out of character. This fanfiction is not related to the anime/manga. This is yaoi, which means male x male.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

**Warning**: Rated M for adult content, violence, and language.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_Thwack! Thwack! _

The ball smashed into the strings of the racquet, bouncing back into his opponent's side. The ball returned and he swung the tennis racquet again. Another loud sound of the ball hitting against the strings echoed in the air. The moment repeated itself until he finally scored, ending the tennis set with six to four. Ryoma panted heavily as he walked over to the bench and draped a towel around his neck. Plopping onto the bench, he reached for his bottle of water and drank it, quenching his thirst. A looming shadow blocked off the light from the heating sun. He tilted his head back and looked up to see Momoshiro standing over him. Sweat dripped down his face, trickling to his neck and then soaked into his shirt.

"You were more aggressive today. Did something happen?" Momoshiro asked curiously.

Ryoma shook his head, "No."

"Come on. You know you can tell me anything."

If only he could, then maybe he wouldn't be so troubled with his feelings, but he would never dare to talk about his feelings openly. Besides, he also had to keep Fuji's real identity a secret. He shrugged and resumed drinking his water. A sigh from Momoshiro indicated he had given up. There was a small guilt inside him for not confiding in Momoshiro. He really did, but he knew he couldn't. "It's nothing...really," Ryoma insisted, "Just tired, s'all."

"Okay...so, wanna head out for some hamburgers?" Momoshiro asked.

"Only if you're paying."

"Awww, why do I always have to pay?!"

"Because...Momo-_sempai_, you're older."

"Argh...fiiiiine, but let's go then. Practice is already over."

"Un."

Standing up, Ryoma tossed the empty water bottle into the recycle bin. Together with Momoshiro, he returned to the club room to take a quick shower and change. Once he was back in his school uniform, he headed out with Momoshiro. They walked to the closes burger joint and ordered twenty hamburgers. Settling down in a table, they split the serving up, ten for him and ten for Momoshiro. Ryoma ate in silence, listening to his upper class-man as he talked away. He was halfway done with his burgers when a low curse from Momoshiro stopped him. He had half bitten into the sixth burger when he lifted his eyes and raised a brow at the other teenager. A nod from Momoshiro told him to look over at the booth next to them. Ryoma let his gaze travel to the side all the while still eating. His gaze landed on two other male teenager. One had a messy hair, almost like seaweed and the other had a bowl hair cut. He blinked and then turned his attention back to Momoshiro. He stared blankly at his upper class-man, having no idea who the other two boys were.

"You don't know them?!" Momoshirp hissed.

He shook his head, "Who are they?"

"You should know, shouldn't you?! You're our ace player!"

"Hnnn..."

"Ugh...the one with seaweed hair is Akaya Kirihara and the one with the bowl hair cut is Renji Yanagi. I hear Yanagi is known as one of the Big Three. The other two being Genichiro Sanada and Seiichi Yukimura. He's also Inui-sempai's former friend. Kirihara on the other hand...is known as the Devil because of his rough playing in tennis."

"...hnn..."

"...you're not interested are you?"

"Once I see their skills, I will decide then if they are worth my time."

"That personality of yours will get you beaten one day."

"We'll see about that."

Ignoring Momoshiro's flabbergasted look, he continued to eat. They were almost done when they were suddenly interrupted by none other than the two boys from earlier. Ryoma let his gaze linger on Kirihara for a bit longer than he did on Yanagi. A small brief moment allowed him to notice that Kirihara wasn't all that bad looking. In fact, he found the other boy to be very pretty, though not as beautiful as Fuji. No one could ever compare to Fuji. The man himself stood on a different level.

"You two are from Seigaku, aren't you?" Kirihara asked.

"Yeah..." Momoshiro replied hesitantly.

"Oh, so then you must be Ryoma Echizen?"

The question was pointed at him. Ryoma returned his attention back to Kirihara and nodded his head. They stood there for a moment longer before they finally excused themselves. As the two teenagers left, Momoshiro leaned over the table to whisper to him, saying that it was weird. Ryoma agreed, but ignored whatever happen. After he finished eating, he and Momoshiro left the place. They walked a few more blocks but eventually went their separate ways. As he walked down the crowded sidewalk, he thought about the events from last night. Seeing Fuji in the midst of sexual appetite left behind a lingering image. His desire was growing. Shaking his head, he decided to look for someone to release his pent up frustration. If he could direct the desire elsewhere, maybe he would forget about loving Fuji. It would spare him the heartache of loving a man he shouldn't.

"Echizen!" a voice called out, breaking him from his thoughts.

Ryoma stopped and looked over his shoulder. Surprised to find who it was, he fully turned around. He arched a brow as Kirihara walked over to him. There was a long silence that passed between them. He cleared his throat and raised his brows. "What?" he asked.

"I just wanted to talk to you...do you live around here?" Kirihara asked.

"Not really...I need to take the train."

"Do you mind if I come along?"

"...do whatever you want."

Shrugging his shoulders, he turned and started walking again. He was well aware of the other boy following behind him. He didn't know what Kirihara wanted, but he did interest him. Whatever the reason was, he didn't think bringing Kirihara to his house would do any harm.

At the house, he opened the door and let Kirihara in. He explained to the other teenager that Fuji was still asleep because he worked at night, so he needed to rest. Kirihara seem to believe him and didn't question anything. Walking into the kitchen, he offered the other boy a drink, but he declined. With nothing to talk about, Ryoma leaned against the wall and stared at Kirihara who sat on the black couch. After a moment of silence, he pushed himself off from the wall and nodded his head to his room. The other seem to understand and they went to his room in silence. Ryoma shut the bedroom door and locked it. He went to his bed and sat down, waving his hand limply to indicate Kirihara can sit where ever he wanted. The other boy looked around his room and then settled himself beside him.

"You're a real tennis freak, you know that," Kirihara said.

"Hn," Ryoma replied.

"You have tennis stuff everywhere...don't you do anything else beside tennis?"

"Not really."

"Thinking of going pro?"

"Maybe."

"We can't really start a conversation if all your answers are one word."

"What do you really want?"

"Sharp, aren't you?" Kirihara laughed and leaned back on the bed, "When I saw you, I immediately knew you and I were the same. We bat for the same team, so I thought...why not experiment together."

"I don't even know you."

"All the better right? No strings attach...no need for this feeling of awkwardness."

Ryoma tilted his head to the side and stared at Kirihara. He frowned, trying to see if the other was playing at something else, but the more he glared, the more he realized Kirihara really meant what he said. Relaxing his body, Ryoma rolled onto his side on top of the bed. There was no need for words between them. The first touch was a little awkward with some fumbling, but once the hesitation passed, the movements became more confident. Panting filled the small room as they jerked each other off. They climaxed together, leaving them breathless and tired. He drifted into sleep and woke up a few minutes to a light shaking. He turned his head and was taken aback from seeing Kirihara so close to him.

"I have to go," Kirihara said, "This was...nice."

Sitting up, Ryoma wiped his hand on the bed sheets. As Kirihara zipped himself up and got ready to leave, he left behind a piece of paper with his number on it. Ryoma gave him his number in return. One look in his eyes and Ryoma knew they were bound to do it again. All they needed to do was call each other. Nodding his head, he walked the other boy out. He stood by the door and opened it, but Kirihara didn't leave as quickly. He turned an inquisitive look at the other. Kirihara smirked and leaned in for a hasty, chaste kiss on the lips. Ryoma was surprised by the antic and pulled back quickly. What happened between was just suppose to be a moment of releasing sexual frustration, not anything romantic.

Kirihara, however, shrugged his shoulders and said, "If we're going to do this, might as well go all the way, right?"

It took him a moment to decide, but he nodded his head in consent. He leaned in for another kiss, but this time it was more heated, more passionate. A warm, wet tongue flicked inside his mouth, swirling around his and sucking on it. He moaned and pressed closer, mimicking the other's movement of tongue. They sucked and licked until the need for air pulled them apart. He took one deep breath and leaned in for another kiss. Forgetting about making Kirihara leave, Ryoma closed the door, his back thumping against it for support. He wrapped his arms around the other boy, pulling in closer till their bodies pressed against each other. There was too much clothes between them, but he knew there wasn't enough time to strip and feel the comfortable touch of skin on skin. He was lost in the kiss when he heard the soft thud of feet coming from Fuji's room. His eyes fluttered open and he pushed Kirihara away. Flustered from getting preoccupied with the kiss, Ryoma muttered, "You have to go."

"That wasn't so bad..." Kirihara whispered, "Call me again next time you want to do something else...or maybe I'll call you."

Ryoma opened the door again. This time, Kirihara did leave. Sighing in relief, Ryoma closed the door and pressed his forehead on the cool white wood. He scolded himself for letting himself get caught up in something risky. He had just met Kirihara and it wasn't even an hour. Then again, it wasn't like he wanted a relationship with the other boy. He just needed some release that didn't relate to him using his own hand.

"Ryoma?" Fuji called out as the door to his room opened abruptly.

He jumped at the sound of Fuji's voice. He turned around appeared around the corner to let Fuji see him. "What?" he asked.

"I thought I heard someone else..."

"It was Momo. He just left."

A pair of blue eyes scrutinized on him. He squirmed under the stare, hoping that Fuji didn't catch him lying. A full minute pass when Fuji nodded his head and returned to his room. The door shut, leaving Ryoma to his thoughts once more. He eventually returned to his room where he settled on his bed and let his mind be plagued by guilt of doing such dirty acts in the house of the one person he never wanted to hurt. He promised himself he would never do it again.

* * *

Despite his promise, he failed to keep it. It took less than a week for Ryoma to submit to his inner cravings. For one whole month, he experimented with Kirihara, doing things he had never done before. One night, Kirihara asked him if he could come to his house again. Ryoma refused because he didn't want Fuji to find out, but Kirhara kept insisting, reminding him of the first how they didn't get caught at his house. The day after he had asked, Ryoma thought about it a bit longer. In the end, he decided to let him come back to the house. It wasn't like Fuji would wake up during the day. He never usually did. And so, Ryoma brought Kirihara back to his house. He led the other back to his room where he once again locked the door. He tossed his bag to the side and got on the bed. Turning around, he found Kirihara already stripping his shirt off. He followed suit and lay back as the other boy crawled onto the bed and straddled him. A flick of the tongue from Kirihara sent a chill down his spine. Ryoma groaned and thrust his hip upward. "What's for today?" he asked.

"Hmmm...maybe a blow job and then...I was thinking maybe we should try something new," Kirihara said.

"New?"

"Uh huh."

"Like?"

"Penetration."

Eyebrows tilting downward, Ryoma shook his head. He was okay with everything else, the licking and fondling and even rimming, but full penetration was something he wanted to save for someone special, such as Fuji. Though it will never happen, he still didn't want to do it. "No," Ryoma said firmly, "Anything, but not that."

"Why not? I did say if we were going to do this, we should go all the way," Kirihara said.

"I know, but...I don't want to."

"It will feel good."

"Have you ever done it?"

"Once."

He still didn't like the sound of it. He shook his head again and Kirihara finally sighed in defeat. The conversation ended and Kirihara continued with taking off his pants and tossing it to the side to join his tennis bag. Ryoma closed his eyes and let his body enjoy the sensation of the other boy's mouth engulfing him whole. He moaned, thrusting his hips into Kirihara. Arching his back, he bit his bottom lip and gasped as he felt the soft brush of a finger between the crack of his ass. Ryoma frown and shook his head, wanting to tell Kirihara to stop, but the pleasure was enticing. He gave a low, throaty moan as the finger pushed pass his muscle of entrance. It felt weird and a little uncomfortable, but as soon as Kirihara began to thrust his finger, brushing against his prostate, the uncomfortableness vanished. It was replaced with pure pleasure and sweet sensations. Lost in pure bliss, he hadn't even realized Kirihara had stopped sucking on him. It was only when the fingers pulled out did he then realize Kirihara was staring at him with a smug look.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked huskily.

Ryoma nodded his head, "Ye...yeah."

"It'll feel even better with my cock."

In the haze of his lust, Ryoma realized what the other boy was up to. Again, he shook his head. He pressed his hand against Kirihara's chest. "I don't want to. Get off of me," he said with a low growl. If Kirihara continued to insist, he was going to toss him out. He tried to get up, but Kirihara pushed him back down. Scowling at the other, Ryoma tried to kick him in the stomach, but he missed. "Get the fuck off of me!" he yelled.

"No," Kirihara said, "I want to fuck you. The hell did you think when I came to you with this offer? That I was just going to suck you off and give you hand jobs? Hell no...I wanted to fuck you until you can't even talk anymore."

"Get the fuck off of me you shithead!"

"I like this."

Ryoma scowled again and lifted his knee, successfully kneeing Kirihara in the stomach. The grip on his arms loosened and he used it to his advantage. He slipped away from Kirihara and ran to the door. His hands were wrapped around the doorknob when he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his neck, pulling him backward. He stumbled and fell to ground. Scrambling to get up, he suddenly forced back to the ground. Kirihara twisted arm and flipped him over so he was lying on his stomach. With his arms now tightly held behind his back and Kirihara sitting on him, it left him helpless. Panting heavily, he continued struggling to fight the other boy off. "Kirihara! Stop!" Ryoma yelled.

"Nu uh," Kirhara said in a melodic voice, "I ain't stopping until you're mine."

"Damn...shit...Fuji might wake up soon. You definitely do not want to be here when he does."

"Who ever this imaginary Fuji is, I don't care."

"I'm not making him up!"

"Well, I've never seen him."

Kirihara chuckled and pressed down on him. Ryoma let out a strangled cry. He turned his head, with his cheek pressing on the carpet and his face toward the door. "Fuji..." he whispered. He pleaded inside his head that the older was awake to hear him. "Fuji! Help!" The door burst open, sending fragments of woods flying everywhere. His eyes widen in shock as the door broke from the hinge and flew toward the wall. Standing where the door use to be was a very confused Fuji. Ryoma watched in awe as the look on Fuji's face turned from one of confusion into realization and then anger. His pure blue eyes turned a deep red and he growled—a growl so low it wasn't even human.

"Let go of him," Fuji growled.

"What the-" Kirihara gasped.

One second Fuji was at the door and then the next who was upon Kirihara. His hands wrapped around the boy's throat as he lifted him up into the air. He threw him, sending him flying across the room. Ryoma flinched at the sound of his lamp breaking. He quickly sat up and moved to the other side of the room. His voice didn't seem to work as he watched in pure shock as Fuji disappeared in another blur. He was once again grabbing hold of Kirihara. Nails dug into the boy's flesh, puncturing deep and making him bleed.

Pressed up against the wall, Kirihara screamed in fear, "Mo-monster! Demon! Let go of me!"

Fuji seem to stop for a moment, but then he growled and slammed Kirihara against the wall again. Ryoma watched on helplessly as Fuji opened his mouth and bit into the flesh. Blood flowed from Kirihara's neck, cascading down his skin and one the floor. There were pieces of flesh being torn as Fuji roughly drank from the boy. Kirhara seem to struggle for a moment, twitching and then falling limp. The body fell to the ground a thud when Fuji released him. Ryoma stared at Kirhara's lifeless body. Blood continued to ooze from the two puncture wounds on neck, flowing down his skin and pooling beneath him.

Never before had he witness Fuji feed. He gulped slowly, letting his gaze travel up to Fuji who had turned to face him. His mouth was covered in blood and it dribbled down to his neck, staining his shirt. His fangs were still visible and his hands were covered in blood from digging his nails into Kirihara. When Fuji lifted his hand to him, Ryoma flinched unconsciously. He saw a look of hurt pass through Fuji's face and then a look of understanding as he stared at his blood stained hands. Before Ryoma could even say anything, Fuji was gone in a flash. Ryoma tried to chase after him, but by the time he got to the front door, Fuji was already gone, leaving him to stare out into the dark night.

There was an empty feeling inside him as he cleaned his room up. He wrapped Kirihara's dead body in a tarp before wiping his floor and sweeping up the broken items. He then lugged the door and leaned it against the wall. After he was done, he stared at the lumpy tarp which had the body inside. He didn't know what to do with a dead body and since Fuji wasn't there, he was even more lost. Trudging out of his room, he went into Fuji's room and crawled into his bed. The black satin sheets had the scent of Fuji on it, comforting him as he lay wrapped up in it. He curled into a ball and prayed that Fuji would return. Without him, the house felt too big, too empty and he was lonely. The memory of being left behind when his mother took him to the streets and told him to wait while she went to get something, but never returned came flushing back in flickers of images. Curling tighter into a ball, he bit back a sob. He pulled the sheets closer to himself as if the sheets were Fuji and they were his arms wrapping him into an embrace. Though his body would be cold, the act itself would be something warm. "Fuji," he whispered, "Come back soon."

A soft voice called out to him, stirring him from his dreamless sleep. He hadn't even realized he had fallen asleep. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Fuji standing beside the bed. A flood of relief wash through him as he lunged forward and hugged Fuji tightly. "Fuji," he whispered, "Welcome home."

"I'm home," Fuji replied quietly, "I'm sorry...for leaving you so abruptly."

"I was afraid you wouldn't come back."

"Never...I wouldn't ever abandon you. I just...needed to be alone. I'm sorry. I scared you didn't I?"

Ryoma shook his head against Fuji's shoulder, "No."

"Don't lie. I know the way how I looked...I must have looked like a monster," Fuji whispered, "...I am a monster."

Ryoma shook his head again. He would never think of Fuji as a monster. To him, Fuji was more of an angel than anyone else. This was the man who took him in despite not even knowing him. He was the very man who raised him by himself and supported him for ten years. Fuji was his savior, his caretaker, and the man he loved. He wouldn't ever call Fuji a monster. "You're not a monster," he said quietly, "I never thought you as one."

"Such kind words..." Fuji said lightly and then chuckled.

"The body..."

"I already took care of it."

"Work?"

"Called in sick."

"Hnn..."

"Do you want to sleep in here tonight?"

Ryoma nodded his head. He pulled back and closed his eyes as Fuji ran his fingers through his hair and then cupped his cheeks. He smiled and scooted over to the side to allow Fuji to slip into the bed. Once they were lying down and comfortable, Ryoma cuddled into the older man. Although he was cold and didn't give off any heat, he was still comforted by his presence. He closed his eyes and fell asleep beside Fuji, grateful that everything would be okay by tomorrow morning.


End file.
